


Sweat and Dust

by MroxDoragon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7936225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MroxDoragon/pseuds/MroxDoragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiro/Lance/Keith story that starts by focusing on them one-on-one. Starts off pretty mild, but will take off in a few chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweat and Dust

             Sweat and dust. That’s what the training room smells like; Shiro notices as his nose almost touches the floor before he pushes himself back up with his left arm. He only ever does push-ups with his left arm these days even though it’s more difficult, same with pull-ups, weight-lifting, or anything else meant to train his arms. He realized early on after he started residing in the castle that there was no point in training his bionic right arm. It had a set strength and ability that couldn’t be increased by working it, but it greatly exceeded the strength of his left making it too easy to let the right arm do all the work and let the left get weak.

Getting the balance down was the hardest part, but it didn’t take Shiro long to master it. He lowers his nose to the ground again, his hand almost touching the center of his chest while the other rests behind his back. Stark white hair sticks to his wet forehead and hangs heavy with sweat, threatening to stab his eyes if he raises his head. Droplets race down his forehead and off the bridge of his nose forming a puddle beneath him. Maybe it was only his sweat he was smelling.

He hears the doors slide open and shut at the other end of the room. “Shiro.”

Shiro chances a look to his side to see Keith removing his jacket and laying it on the ground with care. “Keith, everything okay?”

“Yeah, Lance wouldn’t shut up in the rec room so I thought I’d come run through a few training sequences.”

“Great, I’ll join you,” Shiro grunts as he pushes himself back off the ground and shakes out the tension in his arm, “It’ll be a good team exercise.”

“Fine,” Keith’s answer sounded sullen, eyes to the ground, and his cheeks turned a light shade of pink, all of which surprised Shiro.

 _Is he embarrassed to train with me? This is how he vents so maybe I’m invading his personal space?_ But he had consented, so Shiro places himself at Keith’s side as he initiates the sequence and three robotic fighters materialize in the room.

The boys set themselves as the fighters move to attack, two heading for Shiro and one for Keith as he pulls out his bayard. Keith charges to meet his attacker but Shiro calmly waits for the other two to get close and quickly circles around them putting him and Keith, in essence, back to back. The clanging of metal on metal rings in Shiro’s ears as he parries the fighter’s attacks, trying to keep one in front of the other so they can’t both attack him at once. It’s short lived however as one manages to get to Shiro’s left side, his week spot. The fighter raises his arm to strike but Shiro takes the opportunity to ram into its chest with his shoulder and send it sliding on its back side across the room. The other fighter quickly on him again and Shiro barely manages to duck in time to avoid what would have been a nasty blow to the head. The robot falters; the force of its missed swing turning its body too far, and Shiro stabs the opening with his weaponized arm, plunging it straight through its torso. Not yet finished, the fighter moves to attempt another strike and Shiro makes to retreat but with a tug realized that his arm is stuck in the machine. _Time to improvise._

“On your left!” Shiro yells as twists backwards onto his knee and uses the force to throw the robot over his shoulder, off his arm, and crashing into the wall near where Keith had been a half-second before. He had dodged to his right avoiding the collision but the evasion leaves him open for attack on his right side as he regains his balance. Shiro leaps and uses his prosthetic to block the attack, his chest flush with Keith’s back as his left arm holds him upright around his waist. Sparks fly between Shiro and the fighter’s arms as they fight for dominance, but Keith has regained his balance and kicks the robot away and Shiro releases him to make the final blow with a slice from his bayard.

Shiro is momentarily mesmerized by the sight. Keith’s form is, well for lack of a better term, beautiful. His shoulders rise and fall with his heavy breath, his back muscles contracting and releasing, the back of his neck a sheen of sweat and wet raven black hair. Shiro tries to shake his mind from the laps in concentration, but the job is jarringly done for him when the forgotten third fighter plows into him, returning the action of being sent sliding across the floor.

 Shiro rises onto his forearms as the fighter stalks after him but is struck frozen. With horror he realizes that the fighter is a Galra soldier, an electrified whip in hand, ready to strike. Shiro fights for breath but it won’t reach his lungs. _Fight, damn it! Fight!_ But his arms and legs are lead and he has no control over them, no amount of strength that can make them move. The Galra soldier is close and raises the whip. Shiro braces himself for the strike even though he knows there is no bracing for this.  The whip flies towards him, but suddenly it stops as sword slices through the soldier’s body. He falls to the ground in two pieces, just a robot, before vanishing. The training room acknowledges the end of the sequence and Shiro finally manages to take a breath.

“Are you okay?” Keith holds out a hand, looking concerned, and Shiro takes it to stand back up.

“I’m fine, just landed wrong. Knocked the wind out of me.” Shiro laughs it off while patting Keith on the shoulder. “Nice work. I’m going to take a break, maybe get some food. Make sure you eat something too. I’ll see you later.” Shiro brushes his hair up out of his eyes and leaves for the door.

“Wait, Shiro.” He hears, but the door closes behind him without another word.

…

            Sweat and dust. Maybe the whole castle smelled like that and he had just never noticed before, like a cut on your hand you don’t feel until you use hand sanitizer. Shiro used his arm cover his eyes, blocking the artificial light from above. He liked this room, it was a great hiding spot when he needed one. Of the corridor between the cafeteria and the paladins’ usual barracks he had found a hallway of rooms, each with a large bed, a table and chairs, an oddly shaped couch, and a strange device on the wall that Shiro took for some equivalent of an Altean TV. Shiro had picked this one for its colors, all warm greens and reds that seemed to sooth him with the occasional black accent pieces, and particularly liked the couch due to its comfort and the prevalent feeling that the bed was too spacious for just him. The only issue is he found is that he still hasn’t figured out how to work the lights. Something he curses as he turns his face into the back of the couch and readjusts his arm.

_“Leave him alone!” Shiro growls as he throws himself between the unconscious child and the Galra._

_“You want to take his place boy?!” the Galra shouts. His whip stands at the ready, crackling with electricity. Shiro stands firm, steeling himself for what’s next. “Fine then,” the Galra sneers, bemused._

_He cracks the whip down and Shiro’s steel melts as he’s hit with searing, mind tearing pain. His ears fill with screams and after a few minutes he realizes they’re his._

“SHIRO!”

Shiro starts, his mind spinning as he tries to process to what’s happening. Keith sat in a chair next to him in shock, his bayard drawn. Shiro looked for the threat and realized it was his own arm, pink with energy, that Keith was currently blocking. Shiro pulls back and sits up on the couch faster than he can think of a sufficient apology.

“Keith are you okay? I-“

“I’m good,” Keith relaxes and withdraws his bayard. Getting up, he puts it on the table with his jacket before sitting next to Shiro on the couch. Shiro rests with arms on his legs, hands clasped between his knees, staring at the wall straight ahead as he tries to dig out something to say.

Keith leans back with a sigh, “was it a memory?”

“Yeah.”

 “Seemed ruff.” They both let it sit like that for a minute, each stewing in their own thoughts. “What was it about?”

“How did you find me?” Shiro evades the topic. It’s obvious but Keith lets it slide.

“I followed you from the training room. I noticed something was wrong after the sequence.” Another minute of silence and slowly Keith’s checks turn pink again. “Shiro, you’re a good leader, and it’s your job to be strong, be our center, but you can count on us too. If you need to talk about this, or let it out somehow…”

Shiro chuckles and leans back into the couch, finally relaxing. “I know, but I don’t know how. My memories are fragmented, confusing, and always painful. I can’t do anything except ride them out and tell the team if there’s anything useful I remember.” He lays his head back and breaths, closing his eyes. _Damn this light._

“Shiro.” Keith’s voice and low and chocked and Shiro turns to him surprised.

The kiss is aggressive. Keith grabs the back of Shiro’s neck and pulls Shiro’s lips into his mouth, licking the space in between. Shiro is shocked stiff until after a bite to his lower lip he begins to melt into the kiss. “Keith…. what”

Keith uses the moment to force his tongue into Shiro’s mouth while their hands blindly find their way to each other’s arms, one pulling the other pushing. Shiro shivers as Keith’s tongue explores his mouth and finally he begins to return the kiss, no longer pushing Keith away but aggressively pulling him closer. Keith moans into Shiro’s mouth and reaches down into the front of his pants. Shiro jumps and throws his head against the back of the couch with a grunt as his shaft is stroked quickly. He mumbles something neither of them understands and Keith breaths a laugh before throwing his leg over and straddling his lap. A sound escapes Shiro that he didn’t know he could make as something hot and hard is pressed against his member. _He’s rubbing them together_ he soon realizes through the fog.

He reaches down to help, the skin between them becoming slippery with pre-cum and the urge to buck his hips becoming unbearable. He chances a thrust and Keith immediately uses his free hand and his knee to hold his hips back, causing Shiro to moan from the frustration of it. Keith breathes another laugh as he reinitiates the kiss, hotter and heavier than before, and quickens the pace of his stroking. Shiro’s breath becomes shaky as his gut tightens and he desperately tries to thrust, his hips unable to move. Finally, mercifully he cums, making obscene sounds into Keith’s mouth. Keith releases the kiss and follows a few strokes later, grabbing the back of Shiro’s head and holding their foreheads together as he strokes them through their orgasms, riding it out.

They sit like that for a few minutes, trying to regain their breath. Eventually Keith gets up and retrieves his things from the table, refastening his pants. “You should get some sleep,” he says as he leaves.

“That’s my line,” Shiro chuckles as he stares into the light, trying to work out exactly what just happened. After a half-hour he gives up and covers his eyes with his arm again, his breath finally returning to normal.

Sweat and dust; and the rich perfume of roses.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fanfic, so please don't judge too harshly, I'm a work in progress ^-^  
> I seem to be having some issues with the characterization since I haven't seen the show in a while, so if you notice anything off just let me know and I'll look at it.  
> Also, it will get steamier later I promise, just starting off a bit slow. Actually I'm a sub so expect it to get pretty kinky later X'D


End file.
